


Dalish and the Chantry

by OverthinkingFeathers



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Blood, Gen, Seekers, The Chantry explosion, and Dog - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:13:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9828707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverthinkingFeathers/pseuds/OverthinkingFeathers
Summary: Seekers come to enlist Warden Commander Mahariel's help in the hunt for Anders. They wrongly expect her to be horrified.





	

The Warden Commander's office would have been intimidating if not for the cat.

Mahariel had mounted darkspawn heads on every wall, with special attention paid to the ogres directly behind her desk. They formed a horrifying backdrop, eyes permanently glaring, mouths snarled like they're just daring someone to come within biting range. The one closest to the elf was missing a horn, Wright noticed. Any of the brutal looking weapons arranged above the door could have easily done the job, but whoever removed it clearly hadn't taken their time. There were gouges in the flesh around the stump. No noise pierced the heavy stone walls, giving the whole thing an unreal tinge.

That atmosphere was entirely broken by snoring cat. It was big, orange, and fast asleep in a ray of sunlight. It was also using a massive wardog as a pillow. An old wardog, sure, with grey about his muzzle and paws, but the scars pointed towards a lifetime of battle. Somehow, he had been reduced to a headrest. Driscoll was staring.

"I'll remind you that the Chantry has no authority here, Seekers," Mahariel said. She had been reviewing a map since they had been ushered in, tracing complex lines with her finger. This was the first time she had bothered to acknowledge them in five minutes. He hadn't even been sure she had heard the dwarf who announced them.

Wright understood the power of a good delaying technique. He also disliked having it turned against him, but the Hero of Ferelden wasn't an enemy worth making right now. Or, judging by the grisly trophies and practical armor she worn even in her fortress, ever.

"Warden Commander, we are not here to demand anything. We are simply seeking information."

"Which I'm not obligated to give. But sure," she shrugged, "go ahead."

"Some years ago, you recruited an escaped apostate by the name of Anders. Do you remember him?"

Mahariel rolled her eyes. "I remember all of my recruits. Are you in the habit of forgetting yours?"

He ignored the jab. "Two weeks ago, he blew up the Chantry of Kirkwall, killing the Grand Cleric, and murdered most of the Templar order there. He then proceeded to help the mages flee the city. We're seeking information about where he might have gone."

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't that. Wright took a bit of pleasure in that. Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again before she managed, "Are you sure it was him?"

"He was witnessed by multiple citizens, including the Prince of Starkhaven. He confessed on the spot and volunteered himself for judgement. Unfortunately, the Champion of Kirkwall wrongly believed that sparing him was the better choice and according to our reports, even helped in the ensuing battles. Both are maleficarum."

Mahariel covered the lower half of her face with her hands. Wright thought he saw her eyes misting.

Driscoll must have noticed the same, because he said, "We understand this is very hard news for you, ser. Take all the time you need."

She leaned her head down, shoulders shaking, and for a moment, Wright thought she was crying. Then she looked back up, beaming, and he realized that she was laughing. She was doing her best to keep silent, but the occasional giggle spilled out.

The Seekers exchanged wary looks. "Everyone has different reactions to tragedies, ser, but this is a serious matter."

"Of course it's serious," she crowed. "I've never been so proud of a shemlen in my life. Blew up the Chantry! And found another person to help him! I didn't know he had it in him. Pounce, did you hear that?" In the corner, the cat stretched lazily, roused by her call. "Anders took down an entire Chantry!"

Indignation burned in his stomach, and he stood abruptly, hand going to his sword. Mahariel's smile turned cold and unpleasant as she stood, and he had the sudden sinking feeling that he was over his head. There was an entire fortress between him and the door. He glanced down, hoping to defuse the situation before it came to blows, and his gaze fell upon the missing ogre horn. Judging by the dark blood stains smeared below it, it had been hastily mounted on the side of the desk some time ago. Several bags hung off it.

_Maker's breath._

"Yes, I think it's time for you to go," Mahariel said, ushering them to the door. "Thank you so much for bringing me the good news! Oh, and, before you leave this room, let me remind you of something very important." She blocked the doorway with her body, and even though she was a head shorter than him, Wright backed away. "Anders is a Grey Warden, which means he's under my jurisdiction. Not Kirkwall's, not Ferelden's, not the Chantry's. Mine. If I ever find out - and trust me, I will know - that you so much as touched him, I will personally pull your intestines from your body and hang you with them. Are we clear?" She didn't wait for a response, throwing open the door and standing to the side for them to pass. "Great! Take care now."

As the heavy door closed, he heard purring and a triumphant, "Pounce, this is the best day ever."


End file.
